Cads, Princes & Best Friends

BREAKING AWAY If Annie hadn’t come by when she did, I probably would have remained Joe’s woman for yet a few more months, maybe even a few more years, with no understanding of why I stayed with him through one crisis after another. It finally became clear to me. For nearly fifteen years of my life, Joe manipulated me into being his puppet. He could coerce me into accepting stuff any coherent woman would object to with absolute certainty. For several weeks I’d been trying to make up my mind about Joe. Should I break up with him for good or should I give him another chance? We talked about ending the relationship on a number of occasions, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go. Maybe if I give him time, he’ll see that we have too much invested in each other to end it, I thought. I secretly wished that he would change his ways, stop this current affair that was killing me softly, and we wouldn’t have to part. I waited; then waited some more. Nothing happened. Joe didn’t make any attempts to correct the situation. I had to make a decision, however painful it might be, but I couldn’t go cold turkey. I began to pull away slowly, going out with friends, trying to cut the ties. Joe and I no longer slept in the same bed and if he stayed at the house, I was at the apartment or vice versa. Under the circumstances I was glad we had two places to call home, although that same set up had caused me grief on a number of occasions. At the time I met Joe and eventually moved in with him, he lived in a well appointed high rise building in downtown Jersey City, a waterfront area right across the river from Manhattan. Jersey City’s proximity to New York made it ideal for anyone who worked or conducted business in the city and the area was in the early stages of a massive urban development. In addition to keeping regular jobs, Joe and I worked together on several fashion- related business ventures and when the building went co-op, we had set aside enough money from our existing business to buy the apartment. At that time we operated a specialty apparel company from a showroom on Seventh Avenue in 4 Cads, Princes & Best Friends midtown Manhattan—the hub of the fashion industry—and kept a design workshop in a loft in the Chelsea area, further downtown. We eventually closed the workshop when the rent became too expensive and instead used some areas of the apartment as a design studio. The apartment became crowded with machines, fabrics and other tools of the trade and over time started to feel less like a home and more like a workspace. I wanted a place where I could entertain and a home big enough to accommodate my sister Bee who I hoped would return to New York after her tour with the U. S. army. At my urging, four years before our relationship reached the final crisis, we’d bought a beautiful condominium townhouse in Jersey City as well, blocks away from the apartment. For the first year or so after we bought the condo, things were wonderful between Joe and me. We engaged in the bonding ritual of making a home, shopping for furniture and accessories and decorating the house together to make it our own. We both loved the house and Joe in particular took great pride in showing it off. We often entertained family and friends and were known in our circle for throwing some fabulous parties. But most of all, the house was supposed to be our very own retreat where we spent time together to regroup. I spent most of my time at the house and made it my primary residence. Joe, however, never completely moved over as he assured me he would. Most of his personal stuff and his clothes remained at the apartment. As time went on, his presence at the house became more erratic and on most occasions I was there alone. Times when I expected him to join me there, especially on weekends, there was always some work that he needed to do at the apartment. I later found out the place was a den of lust for him and the conquest of the moment that traipsed through when I wasn’t around. Joe and I had been sleeping apart for several weeks when I started to experience withdrawal. I found myself being, not so much lonely, but disconcerted. Joe was no longer going to share my bed; he wouldn’t be a part of my daily existence anymore. The emotional turmoil threw my menstrual cycle into a tailspin and my hormones wrecked havoc on my body. I was in such a state of arousal that if horns did protrude from the body at times like these, I would resemble a porcupine—if you get my drift. BREAKING AWAY 5 On Sunday morning I went over to the apartment to do some work on our fashion line and Joe was there. For the better part of the day we worked intently, reviewing designs and organizing orders that needed to be processed. In the afternoon, one of the seamstresses stopped by to pick up a stack of work. After she left, I became aware that Joe and I were alone again and I was still very much in that state of lust. I casually approached Joe with an offer I knew he wouldn’t refuse.